Eyes of Fire | Bucky Barnes

48.5

Bucky Barnes hadn't gone full-out shopping for clothes — actually gone shopping, not acting as if he were like he did sometimes during his missions or just picking up the first form-fitting piece he could find — in almost 100 years.

It was a luxury he hadn't been able to afford, in regards to both time, funds, and care.

Back during his forced servitude for Hydra — that was a new word Uxolo had him using, forced servitude, it was supposed to shift his perspective on his time with Hydra — they'd done the shopping for him. There wasn't much popular clothing that could fit his above-average muscle percentage and the metal arm, so they must've had a seamstress or something tailor clothes just for him. The thought of it was... sickening; a little doll, he'd been, forced into whatever clothing they saw fit, forced to do whatever they saw fit. And he'd done it. He'd done it all.

Now, Uxolo wanted to go shopping with him for... a dance.

As soon as her meeting had ended she had called him, informed him of how everything had went, the friends she got to catch up with, the things she'd shared and the new things she'd learned in return.

They hadn't been talking for long before she started trying to butter him up, that fact obvious when she drawled, in that dreadful Brooklyn accent she'd begun adopting: "You, Bucky, are a blue-eyed beaut."

Bucky shook his head, grinning bashfully at the sound of her uncontrollable laughter. "I think y'actually are startin' to sound a little like me."

"Is that good or bad?" Uxolo asked.

"don' know." He answered, teasing, "I like the way y'speak in poems. Not used to you speakin' like an American city dweller."

He listened to her laughter, quiet if only to pick up on every minute sound, every subtle shift. Once she finished, he finally asked, "What is it?"

"I'm going to take you shopping."

What. "Why?"

"We need clothes for the dance." She informed him gently. He could hear some shuffling on her end; she'd told him that she was still packing up some of her stuff. "It's soon, y'know."

" 'm sure I have something packed away here, no reason to spend your money on me." Bucky hurried to say.

"Except for the fact that I want to, and I would love to match with my boyfriend," Uxolo explained carefully, shifting her phone to her either ear so she could pinch it in place with her shoulder. She continued, "though I am not sure I have any black or army green gowns."

"You'd wan'ta match with me?" Was all he caught, definitely not the jab about his lackluster closet.

"Of course I would!" She clarified, chastising in that was only she could. "Then I would get to show you off to everyone. If you would want that, of course."

"Yeah, okay sure." Bucky mumbled in return, mind whirring almost as noisily as his arm did. "Yeah."

"So..." Uxolo teased; he could hear her trying to hold back her laughter. "I will meet you there?"

"Yeah." He was nothing but an echo, now, repeating what he was sure would get him by. He needed complete silence later to be able to fully comprehend all she'd said to him in the past 5 minutes.

"And we can go out for lunch after."

He could hear her smile form even from over the phone, the sound of her lips spreading across her teeth oh-so-familiar. That's what shook him out of it, enough to say, "Deal."

Uxolo laughed lightly, sending him phone-kisses as if they were both teenagers.

"See you soon, arsthandwa."